


Life

by pulangaraw



Category: due South
Genre: Episode Tag, Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-25
Updated: 2009-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:49:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulangaraw/pseuds/pulangaraw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser contemplates what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life

**Author's Note:**

> Tag for the episode "Letting Go".

It's peculiar, he thinks, how something this tiny can cause that much damage. He turns the small metal object in his fingers, letting it roll between thumb and index finger. It's cold, the metal hasn't absorbed his body's warmth yet and it feels oddly foreign.

It's not even very heavy. Just a small piece of metal. Forced into this shape by heat and pressure. He wonders idly if the metal likes being pressed into such a form. If the metal wouldn't rather be something else. A nail or maybe a plow. Or if it would prefer to sleep in the ground forever, not forced into any form at all.

He looks down at the bullet in his palm and thinks of the one that is still inside him. The doctors said they didn't want to take it out, because it is too dangerous. He could be paralyzed.

It's just a piece of metal, this bullet. Such a small thing and yet it has the power to change a life forever. The power to end a life, just like that, in the blink of an eye.

Life is such a fragile thing, so easily destroyed. He never understood why people had to invent things to make it even easier to kill. He always tried to protect life. Ever since the first time he took it. He hadn't known back then, how easy it was to kill. He'd still been a child. But ever since the moment he'd seen that caribou sink to the ground he'd known that killing shouldn't be so easy.

He remembers Ray's face when he came to visit him earlier. The guilt and pain in his eyes. The words he couldn't say clearly written on his features. No, killing was never easy. It could tear a person apart.

He doesn't want to blame Ray. What is done is done. They have to move on. Move past this moment or it will tear them apart. Just like the bullet had torn through his flesh.

He imagines he can feel it, underneath his skin, buried in his muscles, something foreign. Cold metal. He shifts on the bed. There is no pain. The medication took care of that. He almost wishes there was pain. Pain to prove it is there. That this is real, that he isn't dreaming.

The metal weighs in his hand, hard and hot against his palm. If he holds it for just another moment it will burn his skin, sink into his flesh and become part of him, just like it's brother.

He drops the bullet onto the nightstand and turns away. It's no good dwelling on these things. Life goes on. He won't let this bullet destroy a life. His life.


End file.
